


Police of Penzance

by Iwantthatcoat



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Pirates of Penzance - Sullivan/Gilbert
Genre: Humor, Musical, Sherlock Holmes/Pirates of Penzance Crossover, Sherlock Holmes/Pirates of Penzance Fusion, play format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantthatcoat/pseuds/Iwantthatcoat
Summary: Poor Wiggins. His father wanted him to join the priesthood, but due to a nursemaid's poor hearing he is apprenticed instead to Gregson and Lestrade. This policeman's lot is not a happy one, happy one. Who will save him from this horrible fate? Will it be his newfound love, the ample-bosomed Mabel? Or perhaps that only model of a modern consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes?





	Police of Penzance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SCFrankles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/gifts).



> Disclaimer: While I hope you will find this absolutely hilarious, much of that hilarity is from the original Gilbert and Sullivan. I did use extra large chunks of the original lyrics and modified them to make it work with the scope of this story. The originals are easy to find online.

THE POLICEMEN OF PENZANCE  
OR  
THE SLAVE OF DUTY

 

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

SHERLOCK HOLMES, THE WORLD’S ONLY CONSULTING DETECTIVE

SERGEANT OF POLICE GREGSON

LESTRADE (his Lieutenant)

MABEL, EDITH, KATE, and ISABEL (Sherlock Holmes’s Informants who work the Streets of London in various ways)

MRS HUDSON (a Police Maid of all Work-- except housekeeping. Okay, maybe housekeeping too)

CHORUS of Police, and Sherlock Holmes’s Informants

 

 

ACT I

 

Scene: A rocky shoreline on the banks of The Thames. In the distance is a harbor, on which a police coal-schooner resembling the Aurora is lying at anchor. As the curtain rises, groups of policemen are discovered — some drinking tea, some playing whist, and there are a fair amount of them secretly circulating gin. LESTRADE is going from one group to another, filling the cups from a teapot in a knitted cozy. WIGGINS is seated in a despondent attitude at the back of the scene. MRS TURNER kneels at his feet.)

OPENING CHORUS

ALL: Pour, O pour the policeman's tea;  
Fill, O fill the policeman's glass;  
And, to make us more than merry  
Let the milk and sugar pass.

LESTRADE: For today our policeman's 'prentice  
Rises from indentures freed;  
Strong his arm, and keen his senses  
He's a p'liceman now indeed!

ALL: Here's good luck to Wiggy's ventures!  
Wiggy's out of his indentures.

LESTRADE: Two and twenty, now he's rising,  
And alone he's fit to fly,  
Which we're bent on signalizing  
With unusual revelry.

ALL: Here's good luck to Wiggy's ventures!  
Wiggy's out of his indentures.  
Pour, O pour the policeman's tea;  
Fill, O fill the policeman's glass;  
And, to make us more than merry  
Let the milk and sugar pass.

(WIGGINS rises and comes forward with GREGSON, who enters)

GREGSON: Yes, Wiggins, from to-day you rank as a full-blown member of our band.

ALL: Hurrah!

WIGGINS: My friends, I thank you all, from my heart, for your kindly wishes. Would that I could repay them as they deserve!

GREGSON: What do you mean?

WIGGINS: To-day I am out of my indentures, and to-day I leave you for ever.

GREGSON: But this is quite unaccountable; a keener hand at running down a thief or raiding a doss house never swung a nightstick.

WIGGINS: Yes, I have done my best for you. And why? It was my duty under my indentures, and I am the slave of duty. As a child I was regularly apprenticed to your profession. It was through an error — no matter, the mistake was ours, not yours, and I was in honour bound by it.

LESTRADE: An error? What error? (MRS HUDSON rises and comes forward)

WIGGINS: I may not tell you; it would reflect upon my well-loved Mrs Hudson.

MRS HUDSON: Nay, dear master, my mind has long been gnawed by the cankering tooth of mystery. Better have it out at once.

 

SONG — MRS HUDSON

MRS HUDSON: When Wiggins was a little lad he proved devoid of wrath and sloth.  
His father thought he'd 'prentice him to a man of the cloth.  
I was, alas! his nurs'rymaid, and know it would be no bother  
To take and bind the promising boy apprentice to a Father —  
A life not bad for a sweet young lad, so kind to man and beast,  
Though I'm a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a priest.  
I was a stupid nurs'rymaid, on breakers always steering,  
And I did not catch the word aright, through being hard of hearing;  
Mistaking my instructions, which within my brain released,  
I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to the police.  
A sad mistake it was to make and doom him to this lot and,  
I bound him to a policeman — you! — instead of to a priest and,  
I soon found out, beyond all doubt, the scope of this disaster,  
But I hadn't the face to return to my place, and break it to my master.  
A nurs'rymaid is not afraid of what you people call work,  
So I made up my mind to go as a kind of constable-maid-of-all-work.  
And that is how you find me now, a member of you. Leased,  
Which you wouldn't have found, had he been bound apprentice to a priest.

MRS HUDSON: Oh, pardon! Wiggins, pardon! (Kneels)

WIGGINS: Rise, sweet one, I have long pardoned you. (MRS HUDSON rises)

MRS HUDSON: The two words were so much alike!

WIGGINS: They were. They still are, though years have rolled over their heads.

MRS HUDSON: And I went to the head of the Policeman’s Union I did, and explained it all, and he agreed it was a misunderstanding and we could go. But you screamed your little head off and made such a fuss about it and said you wanted to go be a policeman now, and who was I to stop you? So. Here we are.

WIGGINS: (looking uneasy) Yes. Well. ( WIGGINS pauses) But this afternoon my obligation ceases. Individually, I love you all with affection unspeakable; but, collectively, I look upon you with a disgust that amounts to absolute detestation. Oh! pity me, my beloved friends, for such is my sense of duty that, once out of my indentures, I shall feel bound to devote myself, heart and soul, to your salvation!

ALL: Poor lad — poor lad! (All weep)

GREGSON: Well, Wiggins, if you conscientiously feel that it is your duty to reform us, we cannot blame you for acting on that conviction. Always act in accordance with the dictates of your conscience, my boy, and chance the consequences.

LESTRADE: Besides, we can offer you but little temptation to remain with us. We don't seem to make justice pay. I'm sure I don't know why, but we don't.

WIGGINS: I know why, but, alas! I mustn't tell you; it wouldn't be right.

GREGSON: Why not, my boy? It's only half-past eleven, and you are one of us until the clock strikes twelve.

LESTRADE: True, and until then you are bound to protect our interests.

ALL: Hear, hear!

WIGGINS: Well, then, it is my duty, as a policeman, to tell you that you are too tender-hearted. For instance, you make a point of never arresting a weaker party than yourselves, and when you attack a stronger party you invariably get thrashed.

GREGSON: There is some truth in that.

WIGGINS: Then, again, you make a point of never arresting an orphan!

LESTRADE: Of course: we are orphans ourselves, and know what it is. 

WIGGINS: Yes, but it has got about, and what is the consequence? Everyone we capture says he's an orphan. The last three crime rings we took down proved to be manned entirely by orphans, and so we had to let them go. One would think that Great Britain's criminals are recruited solely from her orphan asylums — which we know is not the case. Is it?

LESTRADE: But, hang it all! you wouldn't have us absolutely merciless?

WIGGINS: There's my difficulty; until twelve o'clock I would, after twelve I wouldn't. Was ever a man placed in so delicate a situation?

MRS HUDSON: And Mrs Hudson, your own Mrs Hudson, whom you love so well, and who has won her middle-aged way into your boyish heart, what is to become of her?

GREGSON: Oh, he will take you with him.

WIGGINS: Well, Mrs Hudson, I feel some difficulty about you. It is true that I admire you very much, but I have been constantly amongst men since I was eight years old, and yours is the only woman's face I have seen during that time. I think it is a sweet face.

MRS HUDSON: It is — oh, it is!

WIGGINS: I say I think it is; that is my impression. But as I have never had an opportunity of comparing you with other women, it is just possible I may be mistaken.

GREGSON: True.

WIGGINS: What a terrible thing it would be if I were to marry this innocent person, and then find out that she is, on the whole… plain!

GREGSON: Oh, Mrs Hudson is very well, very well indeed.

LESTRADE: Yes, there are the remains of a fine woman about Mrs Hudson.

WIGGINS: Do you really think so?

LESTRADE: I do.

WIGGINS: Then I will not be so selfish as to take her from you. In justice to her, and in consideration for you, I will leave her behind. (Hands MRS HUDSON to GREGSON)

GREGSON: No, Wiggins, this must not be. We are rough men, who lead a rough life, but we are not so utterly heartless as to deprive thee of thy love. I think I am right in saying that there is not one here who would rob thee of this inestimable treasure for all the world holds dear.

ALL: (loudly) Not one!

GREGSON: No, I thought there wasn't. Keep thy love, Wiggins, keep thy love. (Hands her back to WIGGINS. MRS HUDSON is annoyed)

WIGGINS: You're very good, I'm sure. (Exit MRS HUDSON)

GREGSON: Well, it's near to the top of the hour, and we must be off. Farewell, Wiggins. When your process of conversion begins, let your merciless judgment be as swift and painless as you can conveniently make it.

WIGGINS: I will! By the love I have for you, I swear it! Would that you could render this unnecessary by accompanying me back to church!

GREGSON: No, Wiggins, it cannot be. I know many don't think much of our profession, but, contrasted with the clergy, it is comparatively honest. No, Wiggins, I shall live and die a policemen.

 

SONG — GREGSON

GREGSON: Oh, better far to live and die  
Under the Bobby code, say I  
Than play a sanctimonious part  
with a constable's head and a constable's heart.  
Away to the pious world go you,  
To confessional and the hard wood pew;  
But I'll be true to the song I sing,  
And live and die a policeman.  
For I am a policeman!  
And it is, it is a glorious plan  
To be a policeman!

For I am a policeman!

ALL: You are! Hurrah for the policeman!

GREGSON: And it is, it is a glorious plan  
To be a policeman.

ALL: It is!  
Hurrah for the policeman!  
Hurrah for the po...liiiiiiiice...man!

GREGSON: When I sally forth to seek my prey  
I help London in a noble way.  
Slap on a few more cuffs, it's true,  
Than a well-bred Victor’ian ought to do  
But many a king on a first-class throne,  
If he wants to call his crown his own,  
Must manage somehow to get through  
More dirty work than e'er I do,

For... I am a policeman!

And it is, it is a glorious plan  
To be a policeman!

For I am a policeman!

ALL: You are! Hurrah for the policeman!

GREGSON: And it is, it is a glorious plan  
To be a policeman.

ALL: It is!  
Hurrah for the policeman!  
Hurrah for the po...liiiiiiiice...man!

(Exeunt all except WIGGINS. Enter MRS HUDSON.)

MRS HUDSON: Oh, take me with you! I’ve had enough of policework! It really is quite boring. Much more paperwork than you might expect. And I don’t get sick pay.

WIGGINS: Mrs Hudson, I will be quite candid with you. You are very dear to me, as you know, but I must be circumspect. You see, you are considerably older than I. A lad of twenty-one usually looks for a wife of seventeen.

MRS HUDSON: A wife of seventeen! You will find me one wife in a million!

WIGGINS: No, but I shall find you a wife of sixty-seven, and that is quite enough. Mrs Hudson, tell me candidly and without reserve: compared with other women, how are you?

MRS HUDSON: I will answer you truthfully: I have a slight cold, but otherwise I am quite well.

WIGGINS: I am sorry for your cold, but I was referring rather to your personal appearance. Compared with other women, are you beautiful?

MRS HUDSON: (bashfully) I have been told so.

WIGGINS: Ah, but lately?

MRS HUDSON: Oh, no; years and years ago.

WIGGINS: What do you think of yourself?

MRS HUDSON: It is a delicate question to answer, and a bit rude, but I think I am a fine woman.

WIGGINS: That is your candid opinion?

MRS HUDSON: Yes, I should be deceiving you if I told you otherwise.

WIGGINS: Thank you, Mrs Hudson. I believe you, for I am sure you would not practice on my inexperience. I wish to do the right thing, and if- I say if- you are really a fine woman, your age shall be no obstacle to our union!

(Shakes hands with her. Chorus of girls heard in the distance)

Hark!  
Surely I hear voices! Who has ventured to approach our all but inaccessible post? Can it be from the  
custom house? No, it does not sound like the custom house.

MRS HUDSON: (aside) It is the voices of the ladies of the evening! If he should see them I am lost.

WIGGINS: (looking off) By all that's marvellous-- a bevy of beautiful maidens!

MRS HUDSON: Maidens? Hardly. (aside) Lost! lost! lost!

WIGGINS: How lovely, how surpassingly lovely is the plainest of them! What grace- what delicacy- what refinement! What pert and ample bosoms! And Mrs Hudson— Mrs Hudson told me she was beautiful!

MRS HUDSON: I am. And clever, and a good cook, and excellent at maths, and GGG, and… and…. why on earth do I need you for? I’ll go start up my own business. Real estate shows promise. I wonder if Mrs Turner is still looking for a partner to run that place near Regents Park? Good luck, Wiggins! (MRS HUDSON exits)

( WIGGINS continues to ignore her and watch the girls)

WIGGINS:  
(Recitative)  
What shall I do? Before these painted maidens  
I dare not look upon their alarming costume!  
No, no, I must remain in close concealment  
Until I can appear without my uniform!

(Hides in cave as they enter climbing over the rocks and through arched rock)

GIRLS: Stepping over teeming cesspools,  
Stinking alleys, drunken old fools,  
Passing where the nostrils quiver,  
Passing where the nostrils quiver,  
By the ever-rolling river,  
Swollen with the summer rain, the summer rain  
Threading long and darkest alleys  
Dotted with unnumbered palleys,  
Dotted with unnumbered palleys,  
Scaling rough and rugged passes,  
Climb the hardy little lasses,  
Till the bright sea-shore they gain.

Scaling rough and rugged passes,  
Climb the hardy little lasses,  
Till the bright sea-shore they gain!

EDITH: Let us gaily tread the measure,  
Make the most of fleeting leisure,  
Take our break from selling plea-sure.

GIRLS: Take our break from selling pleasure,

KATE: Far away from toil and care,  
Revelling in fresh sea-air,  
Here we live and reign alone  
In a world that's all our own.  
Here, far from our sordid den,  
Far from the immoral men,

EDITH: None but one knows where we're found,  
Sell our secrets by the pound.

KATE: What a picturesque spot! I wonder where we are!

EDITH: And I wonder where our contact is. 

ISABEL: Oh, 'e will be 'ere eventually! Remember 'e aint so young, and we came through a winding, dark alley to get 'ere.

KATE: But how thoroughly delightful it is to be so entirely alone! Why, in all probability we are the first human beings who ever set foot on this enchanting spot.

ISABEL: 'Cept the mermaids—it's the very place for mermaids.

KATE: Who are only human beings down to the waist—

EDITH: And who can't be said strictly to set foot anywhere. Tails they may, but feet they cannot. We are quite alone, and the sea is as smooth as glass. Supposing we take off our shoes and our stockings…?

KATE: And our dresses... and our corsets...?

ALL: Yes, yes! The very thing! (They prepare to carry, out the suggestion. They have all taken off one shoe, when Wiggins comes forward from cave.)

WIGGINS: (recitative). Stop, ladies, pray!

GIRLS: (Hopping on one foot) A policeman!

WIGGINS: (recitative) I had intended  
Not to intrude myself upon your notice  
In this effective but alarming costume;  
But under these peculiar circumstances,  
It is my bounden duty to inform you  
That your proceedings will not be unwitnessed!

EDITH: But who are you, sir? Speak! (All hopping)

WIGGINS: I am ( he checks his watch, frowns) a policeman!

GIRLS: (recoiling, hopping) A policeman! Horror!

WIGGINS: Ladies, do not shun me! This evening I renounce my vile profession. And, to that end, O pure and peerless maidens! Oh, blushing buds of ever-blooming beauty! I, sore at heart, implore your kind assistance. For in but a moment, I am to be a policeman no more. 

GIRLS: (Smiling, cheering)

WIGGINS: But am instead to be made a priest!

GIRLS: ( Frowning, booing)

WIGGINS: Yes, made a priest. A vow of chastity. Which, till this time, I saw as no impediment, but, now I see it is a fate from which only one of you can save me!

EDITH: How pitiful his tale!

KATE: How rare his beauty

GIRLS: How pitiful his tale! How rare his beauty!

 

SONG—WIGGINS

WIGGINS: Oh, is there not one maiden breast  
This cop can feel..., such ample beauty?  
I offer worldly payment  
meant to compensate your moral duty.  
Who would not give up willingly  
All matrimonial ambition,  
To rescue such a one as I  
From his unfortunate position?  
To rescue such an one as I  
From his unfortunate position?

(Checks pockets. Pulls them inside out. They are empty. He can't afford this. But maybe...)

Oh, is there not one maiden here  
Whose homely face and bad complexion  
Have caused all hope to disappear  
Of ever winning man's affection?  
To such a one, if such there be,  
I swear by Heaven's arch above you,  
If you will cast your eyes on me,  
However plain you be, I'll love you,

However plain you be,  
If you will cast your eyes on me,  
However plain you be I'll love you,  
I'll love you, I'll love, I'll love you!

GIRLS: (Offended). Alas! there's not one maiden here  
Whose homely face and bad complexion  
Have caused all hope to disappear  
Of ever winning man's affection!

WIGGINS: (in despair) Not one?

GIRLS: No, no— not one!

WIGGINS: Not one?

GIRLS: No, no!

MABEL: (enters through arch) Yes, one!  
Yes, one!

GIRLS: 'Tis Mabel!”

MABEL: Yes, 'tis Mabel!

RECIT—MABEL

Oh, sisters, deaf to pity's name,  
For shame!  
It's true that he has naught to pay,  
But pray  
Is that a reason good and true  
Why you  
Should all be deaf to pity's name?

GIRLS: (aside): The question is, had he not been  
A thing of beauty,  
Would she be swayed by quite as keen  
A sense of duty?

MABEL: For shame, for shame, for shame!

SONG—MABEL

MABEL: Broke, wand'ring one!  
Though I hast surely strayed,  
Thy handsome face,  
I shall embrace,  
Broke, wand'ring one!

Broke, wand'ring one!  
If such a love as mine  
Can help thee find  
True peace of mind-  
Why, take it, it is thine!

GIRLS: Take heart, no danger low'rs;  
Take any heart but ours!

MABEL: Take heart, and you shall see;  
Don't take any tart—take me!

GIRLS: Take heart; no danger low'rs;  
Take any heart but ours!

MABEL: Take heart, and you shall see;  
Don't take any tart but me!  
(Broke, wand'ring one!, etc.)

(MABEL and WIGGINS go to mouth of cave and kiss. EDITH beckons the others, who form a semicircle around, screening them from view.)

EDITH:  
What ought we to do,  
Gentle sisters, say?  
Propriety, we know,  
Says we ought to stay;  
While sympathy exclaims,  
Free them from your tether—  
Play at other games—  
Leave them here together.

KATE:  
Her case may, any day,  
Be yours, my dear, or mine.  
Let her make her hay  
While the sun doth shine.  
Let us compromise  
(Our hearts are not of leather):  
Let us shut our eyes  
And talk about the weather.

GIRLS: Yes, yes, let's talk about the weather.

(Chattering Chorus)

How dark and yellow is the fog,  
My throat feels like it has a frog  
The sun return? I hope it may,  
For it rains nearly every day.  
To-morrow it may pour again  
(I know the country’s sick of rain),  
Yet people say, I know not why,  
That we shall have a warm July.  
To-morrow it may pour again  
(I know the country’s sick of rain),  
Yet people say, I know not why,  
That we shall have a warm July.

(Enter MABEL and WIGGINS. During MABEL's solo the GIRLS continue chatter pianissimo, but listening eagerly all the time.) 

 

SOLO—MABEL

 

Did ever maiden wake  
From dream of fiscal duty,  
To find her daylight break  
With such exceeding beauty?  
Did ever maiden close  
Her eyes on waking sadness,  
To dream of such exceeding gladness?

WIGGINS: Ah, yes! ah, yes! This is exceeding gladness.

GIRLS: (How dark and yellow is the fog, etc.)

 

SOLO—WIGGINS

(During this, GIRLS continue their chatter pianissimo as before, but listening intently all the time.)

Did ever a priest-to-be roll  
His soul in guilty dreaming,  
And wake to find that soul  
With peace and virtue beaming?

ENSEMBLE

 

(Simultaneously singing WIGGINS, MABEL, GIRLS) 

GIRLS: (How yellow is...etc) | MABEL: Did ever maiden wake  
From dreams of fiscal duty  
To find herself alone  
With such exceeding beauty? | WIGGINS:Did ever one abhorred  
Forsake his godly mission  
To find himself a girl  
Who knows every position?  
---|---|---  
  
 

RECIT—WIGGINS

Go, we must not lose our senses;  
Men to jail you for offences  
Will anon be here!  
Policing, their dreadful trade is;  
Pray you, get you hence, young ladies,  
While the coast is clear!

(WIGGINS and MABEL exit)

GIRLS: Go, we must not lose our senses,  
If they’ll jail us for offences  
We should not be here!  
Policing, their dreadful trade is—  
Poor companions for us ladies!  
Let us disap—

(During this chorus the POLICE have entered stealthily, and formed in a semicircle behind the GIRLS. As the GIRLS move to go off, each POLICEMAN seizes a GIRL. GREGSON seizes EDITH and ISABEL, LESTRADE seizes KATE.)

GIRLS: Too late!

POLICE: Ha, ha!

GIRLS: Too late!

POLICE: Ho, ho!  
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho, ho!

ENSEMBLE

(Police pass in front of Girls. Girls pass in front of Police.)

(Simultaneously singing POLICE, GIRLS)

GIRLS:We have missed our opportunity  
of escaping with impunity.  
We shall quickly be  
arrested.  
Despite all that we've protested.  
By a justice of legality,  
who resides in this municipality.  
By a judge, a judge, a judge  
of legality, of legality.  | POLICE: Here's a first-rate opportunity  
to get arrests with impunity.  
You shall quickly be  
arrested.  
Despite all that you've protested.  
By a justice of legality,  
who resides in this municipality.  
By a judge, a judge, a judge  
of legality, of legality. |   
---|---|---  
  
(RECIT)

MABEL: (coming forward) Hold, monsters!  
Ere you proceed to arrest us all….  
Just bear in mind that we  
Are on the payroll  
Of a consulting detective!

LESTRADE: (cowed) We'd better pause, or danger may befall,  
Their employer is a consulting detective!

GIRLS: Yes, yes; he is a consulting detective!

(Holmes has entered unnoticed and now makes himself known with a flourish)

HOLMES: Yes, yes, I am a consulting detective!

LESTRADE: For he is a consulting detective!

ALL: He is! Hurrah for the consulting detective!

HOLMES: And it is, it is a glorious plan  
To be a consulting detective!

ALL: It is! Hurrah for the consulting detective!  
Hurrah for the consulting detective!

 

( All clear the way for Holmes)

SONG—HOLMES

I am the only model of a consulting de-te-ect-ive,  
The information stored within my brain attic's selective,  
My knowledge isn't feeble, I know the King of Bohemia  
But I've no passing interest in your useless academia!

I quote from great philosophers when I'm feeling rhetorical  
and drop events like Waterloo, when I'm waxing historical;  
On sensational lit'riture I'm teeming with a lot o' news,  
(Thinks, pulls out pipe.. ) I have it! With many cheerful facts about the square knot on a hangman's noose.

 

ALL: With many cheerful facts about the square knot on a hangman's noose!

 

HOLMES: I know of the ecliptic and I know of its obliquity  
But what goes round what matters not one whit upon the work, you see.  
In short, in matters of the brain both normal and de-fe-ec-tive,  
I am the only model of a consulting detective!

ALL: In short, in matters of the brain both normal and defective,  
He is the only model of a consulting detective!

 

HOLMES:  
I'm very good at botany and non-systemic medicine;  
I know the scientific names of chemicals and mess with them  
My friends they only number one, though sometimes he can be quite dim.  
And scholars from around the world debate whether I sleep with him. 

(Silence. Mixed reactions. Some of the police officers look shocked. Some of the women smile and nod)

LESTRADE: Ummmm....so..... Do you?

HOLMES: I....  
know our mythic history about the crown's succession;  
When I uncover secrets, I'm the model of discretion  
My logic is clear as a bell, though my mind's tintinnabulous…….  
Tintinnabulous….

In dress I'm prim and catlike, though still absolutely fabulous;

 

ALL: In dress he’s prim and catlike, though still absolutely fabulous!

HOLMES: Then I can read a coded note in Babylonic cuneiform,  
And tell you ev'ry detail of John Watson's army uniform  
In short, in matters of the brain both normal and de-fe-ec-tive,  
I am the only model of a consulting detective!

 

ALL: In short, in matters of the brain both normal and defective,  
He is the only model of a consulting detective!

HOLMES: (slower)

I know... your path from smatterings... of mud upon your brand new spats  
Am well-acquainted with deducing people from…. their dirty hats.  
I work…. with belladonna... opium and toxics gen’ra-ly.  
And I might poison anyone... with ve-get-tab-le alkalai.  
Then play a fugue on violin whilst I am lying on the floor.  
And singlestick and street boxing, do baritsu and fight with swords.  
I quote Flaubert and I read Reade, I'm very fond of Goethe.  
I hate that idiot Dupin. I hope Poe isn't hurta.

 

ALL: He hates that idiot Dupin. He hopes Poe isn't hurta.

HOLMES: For all my precise knowledge, I'm still plucky and adventury,  
I am the second-smartest man to have been born this century.  
But still in matters of the brain, both normal and de-fe-ec-tive,  
I am the only model of a consulting detective!

 

And now that I've introduced myself, I should like to have some idea of what's going on.

KATE: Oh, Mr Holmes— we—

LESTRADE: Permit me, I'll explain in five words: (He counts on his hand.) We're arresting your informants. (Realizes he has one finger left-- Spike-style) Bitch.

HOLMES: Dear me!

GIRLS: Against our wills, Mr Holmes—against our wills!

HOLMES: Oh, but you mustn't do that! (Examines men closely....especially their shoes) This is a picturesque uniform. 

ISABEL: They are policemen, Mr 'Olmes.— the famous Policeman 'o Scotland Yard!

HOLMES: The Police of Scotland Yard! I have often heard of them.

MABEL: All except this gentleman (indicating WIGGINS), who was a policeman once, but who is out of his indentures to-day, and who means to lead a blameless life evermore.

HOLMES: But wait a bit. I object to police arresting any of my Irregulars and Informants.

GREGSON: And we object to the butchering of the fine works of an exceptional author and a light operatic duo. But we waive that point. We do not press it. We look over it.

HOLMES: (aside) Hah! An idea! (aloud) And do you mean to say that you would deliberately rob me of these, the sole remaining props of my old age, and leave me to go through the remainder of my life unfriended, unprotected, and alone?

GREGSON: Well, yes, that's the idea. And where's Watson? He didn't go get married again, did he?

HOLMES: Tell me, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan?

POLICE: (disgusted) Oh, dash it all!

GREGSON: Here we are again!

HOLMES: I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan?

GREGSON: Often!

HOLMES: Yes, orphan. Have you ever known what it is to be one?

GREGSON: I say, often.

ALL: (disgusted) Often, often, often. (Turning away)

HOLMES: I don't think we quite understand one another. I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan, and you say "orphan". As I understand you, you are merely repeating the word "orphan" to show that you understand me.

GREGSON: I didn't repeat the word often.

HOLMES: Pardon me, you did indeed.

GREGSON: I only repeated it once.

HOLMES: True, but you repeated it.

GREGSON: But not often.

HOLMES: Stop! I think I see where we are getting confused. When you said "orphan", did you mean "orphan", a person who has lost his parents, or "often", frequently?

GREGSON: Ah! I beg pardon— I see what you mean — frequently.

HOLMES: Ah! you said "often", frequently.

GREGSON: No, only once.

HOLMES: (irritated) Exactly— you said "often", frequently, only once. Look. Let's stop this for a moment, have some tea, and carry on in a bit.

(They rest. LESTRADE brings around the tea again as in opening scene)

HOLMES: Ready?

ALL: Ready!

“FINALE OF ACT I”

 

HOLMES: Oh, men of dark and dismal fate,  
Forgo your cruel employ,  
Have pity on my lonely state,  
I am an orphan boy!

LESTRADE/GREGSON: An orphan boy?

HOLMES: An orphan boy!

POLICEMEN: How sad, an orphan boy.

HOLMES: These urchins whom you see  
Are all that I can call my own!

POLICEMEN: Poor fellow!

HOLMES: Take them away from me,  
And I shall be indeed alone.

POLICEMEN: Poor fellow!

HOLMES: If pity you can feel,  
Leave me my sole remaining joy—  
See, at your feet they kneel;  
Your hearts you cannot steel  
Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy!

POLICE: (sobbing) Poor fellow!  
See at our feet they kneel;  
Our hearts we cannot steel  
Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy!

LESTRADE: The orphan boy!  
add GREGSON: The orphan boy!  
See at our feet they kneel;  
Our hearts we cannot steel  
Against the tale of the lonely orphan boy!

POLICE: Poor fellow!

ENSEMBLE

(Simultaneously singing: HOLMES, POLICE, GIRLS)

HOLMES (aside):  
I'm telling a terrible  
story,  
but it doesn't  
diminish my glory;  
if I hadn't, in elegant  
diction,  
indulged in an innocent  
fiction.  
Which is not in the same  
category  
as telling a regular  
terrible story. | GIRLS (aside):  
He's telling a terrible  
story,  
which will tend to  
diminish his glory;  
it is easy, in elegant  
diction,  
to call it an innocent  
fiction.  
But it comes in the same  
category  
as telling a regular  
terrible story. | POLICE (aside):  
If he's telling a terrible  
story,  
he shall come to  
an end that is gory;  
it is easy, in elegant  
diction,  
to call it an innocent  
fiction.  
But it comes in the same  
category  
as telling a regular  
terrible story.  
---|---|---  
  
HOLMES: (aside) After all, orphans get all the best stuff.

 

GREGSON: Although our dark career  
Sometimes involves locking away people with no hope of appealing  
We rather think that we're  
Not altogether void of feeling.  
Although we often create strife,  
We hate to give fifty to life.

SOLO AND CHORUS

LESTRADE: When a felon's not engaged in his employment

POLICE: His employment

LESTRADE: Or maturing his felonious little plans,

POLICE: Little plans,

LESTRADE: His capacity for innocent enjoyment

POLICE: 'Cent enjoyment

LESTRADE: Is just as great as any honest man's.

POLICE: Honest man's.

LESTRADE: Our feelings we with difficulty smother

POLICE: 'Culty smother

LESTRADE: When constabulary duty's to be done.

POLICE: To be done.

LESTRADE: Ah, take one consideration with another,

POLICE: With another,

LESTRADE: A policeman's lot is not a happy one.

ALL: Ah, when constabulary duty's to be done, to be done,  
A policeman's lot is not a happy one, happy one.

LESTRADE : When the enterprising burglar's not a-burgling

POLICE: Not a-burgling

LESTRADE: When the cut-throat isn't occupied in crime,

POLICE: 'Pied in crime,

LESTRADE: He loves to hear the little brook a-gurgling

POLICE: Brook a-gurgling

LESTRADE: And listen to the merry village chime.

POLICE: Village chime.

LESTRADE: When the coster's finished jumping on his mother,

POLICE: On his mother,

LESTRADE: He loves to lie a-basking in the sun.

POLICE: In the sun.

LESTRADE: Ah, take one consideration with another,

POLICE: With another,

LESTRADE: A policeman's lot is not a happy one.

ALL: Ah, when constabulary duty's to be done, to be done,  
A policeman's lot is not a happy one, happy one.

 

GREGSON: You may go, for you're at liberty.

Our policeman's rules protect you,  
And honorary members of our band we do elect you!

LESTRADE: For he is an orphan boy!

CHORUS: He is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!

HOLMES: And it sometimes is a useful thing  
To be an orphan boy.

CHORUS: It is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!  
Hurrah for the orphan boy!

ALL: Oh, happy day, with joyous glee  
They will away and will be free!  
Should it befall auspiciously,  
Her (Our) sisters all will innocents be!

 

“END OF ACT I”

 

******

 

ACT II  
(Scene.-Stage Left: Baker Street by moonlight. SHERLOCK HOLMES discovered seated R.C pensively, surrounded by smoke. His are feet tucked under him, Paget-like. MABEL and WIGGINS are there but HOLMES appears not to notice.)

 

MABEL: Oh, Wiggins, cannot you, in the calm excellence of your wisdom, reconcile it with your conscience to say something that will relieve my employer's sorrow? And make him take his shoes off, at least, because that leather is difficult to clean.

WIGGINS: I will try, dear Mabel. Why does he sit, night after night, scarcely moving, save to smoke a pipe?

HOLMES: Why do I sit here? I am thinking. There are two matters at hand. First, I have portrayed myself as an orphan; and I am no orphan. True, they are a dim lot, and may not even notice. But surely, there are brains enough amongst them to deduce this.

WIGGINS: Be comforted. Had you not acted as you did, these reckless men would assuredly have called in the nearest hangman on your informants and… my love.

HOLMES: I thank you for your proffered solace, but it is unnecessary. I assure you, Wiggins, any such anguish and remorse one might feel at the abominable falsehood by which I escaped these easily-deluded policemen-- such that I might go to their simple-minded chief this very night and confess all did I not fear that the consequences would be most disastrous to myself-- has not affected me in the slightest. And then of course, there is the far greater problem of your indenture.

WIGGINS: But my time is complete! I served my 21 years and now am freed.

HOLMES: Perhaps. Have you a copy of this agreement? 

WIGGINS: No, sir. It is under lock and key at Scotland Yard.

HOLMES: You are certain it is kept there?

WIGGINS: It lies in his desk, for he has shown me the original many a time, and keeps a copy of it on his person as well.

HOLMES: Ah. Well then it will be easily enough examined. 

WIGGINS You will remove it from his purse when he is unawares?

HOLMES: No. I shall remove it from its locked hiding place within Scotland Yard. If it states you must serve them for 21 years, all is well. But, however unlikely, one of them might have actually been clever. Though if he had been, I should expect it would have come up long before now. Still, desperate times call for a desperate degree of thinking. They might yet notice. 

WIGGINS: Notice what? 

HOLMES: Let me stay here my smoke-filled rooms and think. It may yet come to nothing, but if one if them grows wise, I shall wish to be adequately prepared. You, my lad, are fortunate to have found someone in a well-publicised adversarial relationship with both Copernican theory as well as the precise nature of time. The Earth does not go around the sun. I have had much mockery of me on this point, and I have tried to forget it all rather than take pains to explain. Everything, including the sun itself, orbits the barycenter, the center of mass of the entire system. It is of little use, this knowledge, and it truly makes no difference in anyone's life. But the fact that a year does not comprise 365 days, but instead is 48 minutes and 45 seconds longer than that, might just make a tremendous difference in yours. That Julius Caesar took it upon himself to fix the irregularities which would eventually cause the seasons to be misaligned by creating an intercalary day every fourth year is the root of your problem.

WIGGINS:(thoroughly confused) I... will leave you to your work.

(WIGGINS Goes back to police)

********

GREGSON: Wiggins! 

WIGGINS: Yes, sir?

CHANT—GREGSON

GREGSON: For some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I've no desire to  
be disloyal,  
Some person in authority, I don't know who, very likely the  
Astronomer Royal,  
Has decided that, although for such a beastly month as February,  
twenty-eight days as a rule are plenty,  
One year in every four his days shall be reckoned as nine and-  
twenty.  
Through some singular coincidence— I shouldn't be surprised if  
it were owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy—  
You are the victim of this clumsy arrangement, having been born  
in leap-year, on the twenty-ninth of February;  
And so, by a simple arithmetical process, you'll easily discover,  
That though you've lived twenty-one years, yet, if we go by  
birthdays, you're only five and a little bit over!

LESTRADE: Ha! ha! ha! ha!

GREGSON: Ho! ho! ho! ho!

WIGGINS: Dear me!  
Let's see! (counting on fingers)  
Yes, yes; with yours my figures do agree!

ALL: Ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho! ho!

WIGGINS: (more amused than any) How quaint the ways of Paradox!  
At common sense she gaily mocks!  
Though counting in the usual way,  
Years twenty-one I've been alive,  
Yet, reck'ning by my natal day,  
Yet, reck'ning by my natal day,  
I am a little boy of five!

LESTRADE/GREGSON: He is a little boy of five!  
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

ALL: A paradox, a paradox,  
A most ingenious paradox!  
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!, etc.

(LESTRADE and GREGSON throw themselves back on seats, exhausted with laughter)

WIGGINS: Upon my word, this is most curious— most absurdly whimsical. Five-and-a-quarter! No one would think it to look at me!

GREGSON: (rises) I'm afraid you don't appreciate the delicacy  
of your position: You were apprenticed to us—

WIGGINS: Until I reached my twenty-first year.

GREGSON: No, until you reached your twenty-first birthday (producing document), and, going by birthdays, you are as yet only five-and-a-quarter.

WIGGINS: You don't mean to say you are going to hold me to that?

GREGSON: No, we merely remind you of the fact, and leave the rest to your sense of duty.

LESTRADE: Your sense of duty!

WIGGINS: (wildly) Don't put it on that footing! I implore you not to insist on the letter of your bond just as the cup of happiness is at my lips!

LESTRADE: We insist on nothing; we content ourselves with pointing out to you your duty.

GREGSON: Your duty!

WIGGINS: (after a pause) Well, you have appealed to my sense of duty, and my duty is only too clear. I abhor your infamous calling; I shudder at the thought that I have ever been mixed up with it; but duty is before all- at any price I will do my duty.

GREGSON: Bravely spoken! Come, you are one of us once more.

WIGGINS: Lead on, I follow. (Suddenly) Oh, horror!

LESTRADE/GREGSON: What is the matter?

WIGGINS: Ought I to tell you? No, no, I cannot do it; and yet, as one of your band—

GREGSON: Speak out, I charge you by that sense of conscientiousness to which we have never yet appealed in vain.

WIGGINS: Sherlock Holmes, the champion of my Mabel—

GREGSON/LESTRADE: Yes, yes!

WIGGINS: He escaped from you on the plea that he was an orphan?

GREGSON: He did.

WIGGINS: It breaks my heart to betray the honoured friend and protector of the girl I adore, but as your apprentice I have no alternative. It is my duty to tell you that Sherlock Holmes is no orphan!

GREGSON/LESTRADE: What!

WIGGINS: More than that, he never was one!

POLICEMAN WHO LOOKS SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE WATSON: How can you tell he isn’t an orphan?

WIGGINS: Mabel told me he went to visit his mum last week.

POLICEMAN WHO LOOKS SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE WATSON: But you can visit your mother and still be an orphan!

(POLICE eye POLICEMAN WHO LOOKS SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE WATSON suspiciously)

GREGSON: Am I to understand that, to save his contemptible informants, he dared to practice on our credulous simplicity? (WIGGINS nods as he weeps) Our revenge shall be swift and terrible. We will go and collect our band and raid Baker Street this very night. We are certain to find something interesting.

WIGGINS: But stay—

GREGSON: Not a word! He is doomed!

With falsehood foul  
He tricked us of our prize.  
Let vengeance howl;  
a constable so decries.  
Our nature stern  
He softened with his lies,  
And, in return,  
We'll exploit every vice!

ALL: Yes, yes! to-night, we'll exploit every vice!!  
Yes, yes! to-night, we'll exploit every vice!!

LESTRADE: To-night he cries!

GREGSON: Yes, or early to-morrow.

WIGGINS: The girls likewise?

 

*****

 

(WIGGINS returns Stage Left to Mabel at Baker Street. HOLMES is still in chair, not having moved)

MABEL: But you are twenty-one?

WIGGINS: I've just discovered that I was born in leap-year, and that birthday will not be reached by me till nineteen forty!

MABEL: Oh, horrible! catastrophe appalling!

WIGGINS: And so, farewell!

MABEL: No, no! Ah, darling, hear me.

DUET—MABEL and WIGGINS

MABEL: Stay, darling, stay!  
They have no legal claim,  
No shadow of a shame  
Will fall upon thy name.  
Stay, darling, stay!

WIGGINS: Nay, Mabel, nay!  
To-night I quit these walls,  
The thought my soul appalls,  
But when stern Duty calls,  
I must obey.

MABEL: Stay, darling, stay!

WIGGINS: In 1940, I of age shall be, I'll then return, and claim you—I declare it!

MABEL: It seems so long!

WIGGINS: Swear that, till then, you will be true to me.

MABEL: Yes, I'll be strong! By all my family dead and gone, I swear it!

(HOLMES gets out of chair.)

HOLMES: Oh, don’t be ridiculous. There is another way.

(HOLMES Goes to bookshelf)

HOLMES: But first, I have to pee.

 

*****

(HOLMES returns to the POLICE with WIGGINS AND MABEL)

HOLMES: So, I am to assume you are quite pleased with the technicality-- the letter of the law being of greater import than the spirit?

GREGSON: We police hold faithfully to the precise letter of the law. That 21 years have actually passed is irrelevant. It has not been the 29th of February 21 times. Wiggins has not reached his own 21st year.

HOLMES: Perhaps we might consult a legal authority, then? Sir William Blackstone?

(POLICE take of caps, place over hearts, look reverent.)

HOLMES: Ah, yes. Good. He states in Blackstone's Commentary, Book One, 1893 Edition, page 463, the following: (HOLMES pulls paper from his breast pocket) 'Full age in male or female is 21 years, which is completed on the day preceding.' The late Chief Justice Sharswood clarifies the point, stating, "If he is born on the 16th day of February, 1608, he is of age to do any legal act on the morning of the 15th day of February 1629, though he may not have lived 21 years by nearly 48 hours." 

POLICE: (Look puzzled) 

HOLMES: (Sighs) To put it simply, if a person is born on January 1 he is in existence for the whole day even if he was born at 11:59:59 p.m. Then as soon December 31 begins, at midnight between the 30th and 31st, he has been in existence for 365 days. One year. So he is one year old on the day before his birthday. A person does not need to be in existence for 365 24-hour periods to be a year old. The reason being in law there is no fraction of a day; and if a birth were on the last second of one day and the act on the first second of the preceding day twenty-one years after, then twenty one years would be complete, and in the law it is the same whether the thing is done upon one moment of the day or another. 

POLICE: (still puzzled)

HOLMES: In summation, it matters not that he was born on the 29th of February, but rather, that the day before the 29th of February-- the 28th, which is, by all accounts, a rather ordinary, non-Leap Day-- has been reached. Which has _already passed_. Whether Miss Mabel has convinced you to give up the priesthood or not is entirely your decision, but you are no longer enslaved by Scotland Yard.  
Wiggins, you are free of your duty.

(GIRLS poke heads from behind curtain)  
WIGGINS/MABEL/GIRLS: Hurrah for the consulting detective!  
Hurrah for the consul--ting-- detective!

GREGSON: Fuck.

 

THE END


End file.
